


(One Look) And The Avalanche Drops

by prouvairablehulk



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [5]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dragon AU, Lewis Snart is a dick no matter what universe he's in, M/M, Mick is apparently always going to be a mercenary in these
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6753391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/pseuds/prouvairablehulk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons are complicated. Dragons are notoriously morally ambiguous. Dragons are supposed to breathe fire. They’re not supposed to like ice and snow and hide in glaciers and not steal gold or kill people and be virtually impossible to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(One Look) And The Avalanche Drops

**Author's Note:**

> joker-quinn asked:  
> ColdWave. "Len, just 'cause you were literally born from ice doesn't mean you can take a nap in a snowbe---ffs." - she also asked “you’re a dragon but you don’t breathe fire? bro”. They just went together so perfectly.

Dragons are complicated. Dragons are notoriously morally ambiguous. Dragons are supposed to breathe fire. They’re not supposed to like ice and snow and hide in glaciers and not steal gold or kill people and be virtually impossible to find.

Honestly. 

King Lewis had made it very clear that he needed the dragon dead when he was hiring Mick, but Mick was slowly beginning to question his employer’s motives. As far as he can tell, said dragon hasn’t hurt anyone and doesn’t cause any economic deficit. The only thing he’s done is kidnap s small selection of royals, including King Lewis’s daughter, Lisa. The only casualty the dragon seems responsible for is Lewis’s son Leonard. Look, fighting dragons is dangerous, and if Mick doesn’t have to, he won’t. He’s sitting on a boulder at the foot of the mountain, trying to figure out how he can fake the dragon’s death and conjuring tiny flames to lick at his fingers in a vain attempt at getting warm when a young woman approaches him, nervously. She’s wearing a thick, black cloak with gold fastenings that looks very very warm, and she’s oddly familiar. 

“Can I ask what it is you’re looking for?”

Mick looks back down at the conjured fire playing around his fingers, and makes a split-second decision.

“I’m looking for a dragon scale. Ice-blue. It’s so I can fool an employer into thinking the dragon he sent me to kill is dead.”

The woman offers him a hand. 

“I’ll take you to the dragon.” she says, with a bright smile, and Mick suddenly recognizes her as Princess Lisa. She looks happier than in the portrait he’d been shown, healthier. He takes her hand, and lets her lead him up the ice. 

Their apparent destination is a cave at the glacier’s edge about halfway up. When they step inside, they pass a complex magical machine, and then suddenly, it is warm. Mick smiles, and then realizes they have company. Ranged around the cave, lounging on comfortable furniture with luxurious fabrics and good food, are all the various royals who the dragon has kidnapped. Not a single one of them looks unhappy, or scared, or even hurt. Prince Hartley Rathaway is tinkering with a device, Princess Shawna Baez is practicing her teleportation, Prince Mark Mardon appears to be creating a localized rainstorm to make Prince Axel Walker laugh. 

“Lenny?” calls Lisa, and Mick’s eyes widen a little. “Lenny?” 

“Outside.” replies Hartley, without looking up. “He said something about wanting a nap.”

Lisa spins towards the entrance of the cave.

“Leonard!” she roars. “Just because you were born of ice and snow doesn’t mean you should sleep in a snowba- oh, for fuck’s sake.”

This last is in response to the fact that the giant fucking snowbank outside the cave just fucking moved and has revealed the scaly head of a fucking massive dragon. Mick has his hand on his sword hilt out of reflex, but he’s very very glad he chose not to fight this one. 

I was tired, Lisey. And it’s cold.

The dragon’s telepathic voice resounds like sleet and sleek violence and cunning and the smell of clean water. He turns a disdainful eye on Lisa and Mick and breathes a burst of ice between his bank and the door, a clean enough line that Lisa has to dance backwards to avoid slipping, or having her feet frozen. 

“You’re a dragon, but you don’t breathe fire? Bro.” 

It takes Mick a minute to realize he’s spoken, and when he does, he braces himself for a blast of ice followed by the painstaking process of summoning enough flame to defrost himself. The ice never comes, and he is instead greeted with a low rumble like the beginning of an avalanche that he comes to realize is the dragon laughing. 

I like him. Why did you bring the fire mage up the mountain, little sister?

And they’re back to the thing that had Mick’s eyes going wide earlier, which is the part where Crown Prince Leonard is apparently a giant fucking dragon now. And okay, the part where he’s “kidnapped” his sister and all their friends makes a lot more sense now. 

“Lewis hired him to kill you, but he’s decided against it.” says Lisa. Leonard huffs out a little burst of snowflakes, and then there’s a billow of cold wind and a man is walking out of the now-crumpled snow. 

“So are you going back with false proof?” asks Crown Prince Leonard, and while his sister had looked sadder in her portrait, his did not come close to doing him justice. The cold calculation in his eyes, the definition in his shoulders, the swagger of his step, none of these had been represented on the canvas Mick had seen. For an ice dragon, the man is unfairly hot.

“A scale would do.” says Mick, rather than something embarrassing like ‘is there a bed in that cave somewhere’ or ‘bang me in that snowbank I’ll be fine I can summon fire’.

Leonard tilts his head just a little to one side and blinks, very slowly. 

“Do you want to go back?” he asks. “Or would you rather stay?” There’s enough innuendo in his tone and his eyes (which are so so very blue) to weaken the knees of a much stronger man than Mick. ‘Bang me in that snowbank I’ll be fine I can summon fire’ is making a serious comeback as a reply to that, but Mick swallows it down. 

“If you want me, I can stay.” says Mick, and he’s mildly impressed by how desperate his voice isn’t. Lisa is outright laughing at them, and the others are lining the cave entrance to watch the show, grins on their faces. 

“HE WANTS YOU TO STAY IN HIS BED!” yells Hartley, only to have Mardon slap a hand over his mouth and shove him backwards. Len gives a tiny shrug, a ‘he’s not wrong’, and Mick steps forward and kisses him. There’s steam coming off them is waves when they part, to the cheers of their assembled audience, but they are both smiling. 

Two months later, Mick Rory marches into the great hall of King Lewis’s castle with a flame in one hand and his unsheathed sword in the other. 

“Did you find the dragon and my daughter?” asks the King.

“Damn right I did.” says Mick, with a smile like a forest fire. “Did you know there are dragons that can breathe ice?”

Len’s telepathic laughter still sounds like the oncoming avalanche.   
 


End file.
